


Baby You Got A Bright Future Behind You

by werewolvesandarrows (nerdy_farm_girl)



Series: Tumblr Fic [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dentists, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/pseuds/werewolvesandarrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles loves going to the dentist. Loves it. He gets that it’s kind of strange, he does. Scott hates going to the dentist, hates it even more now that he and Kira have the twins and it costs like a million bucks or something every trip (or well, maybe not a million bucks but Stiles generally zones out once Scott starts to rant about money. He definitely doesn’t love talking about money). But Stiles is blessed to have a job with good dental coverage, and a visit to the dentist doesn’t usually come with a big bill. It does however come with hygienists and a dentist that are smokin’ hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby You Got A Bright Future Behind You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticfishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/gifts).



> Written for [Alfie's](http://bicanthrope.tumblr.come) birthday!  
> Inspired by this AU: Apparently, jokingly spreading your legs when the dentist says “Open wide” is FROWNED UPON IN THIS ESTABLISHMENT. ([x](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com/post/127472988189/alex-clover-sam-apparently-jokingly-spreading))
> 
> Title From Wiggle by Jason Derulo (I am trash okay, just ignore me)

Stiles _loves_ going to the dentist. _Loves it_. He gets that it’s kind of strange, he does. Scott _hates_ going to the dentist, hates it even more now that he and Kira have the twins and it costs like a million bucks or something every trip (or well, maybe not a _million_ bucks but Stiles generally zones out once Scott starts to rant about money. He definitely doesn’t love talking about money). But Stiles is blessed to have a job with good dental coverage, and a visit to the dentist doesn’t usually come with a big bill. It does however come with hygienists and a dentist that are smokin’ hot.

Laura Hale ( _it’s Dr. Hale to you Stilinski_ ) is legitimately the most beautiful dentist ever. Like, Stiles is pretty sure she won an award for it or something. And then there’s her hygienists. Erica, blonde bombshell that likes to wear non regulation scrubs (there’s no way that deep of a v-neck is allowed, but Stiles isn’t complaining) and leer, Isaac, angelic looking but with a weird obsession for scarves and a possible crush on Scott, and Derek Hale, the prettiest of them all. Stiles winks at Derek from his seat in the waiting room, watching as a flush appears beneath the annoyingly perfect beard that covers his cheeks.

“Fuck off Stilinski,” he growls, grabbing a stack of files and marching away. Stiles grins even wider, shrugging one shoulder at Erica, who’s currently twirling in the chair behind the front desk.

“Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave.”

Erica snorts as the sound of undignified crashing filters down the hallway. Mission accomplished. Stiles likes to push Derek’s buttons, has ever since Derek got brought into the Sheriff’s station when he was fifteen for getting into a fight at the local arcade and ten year old Stiles decided to make fun of his split lip. Well, he offered him a Batman band aid _first_ , but Derek had just glowered at him so… It’s almost thirteen years later and things have only escalated. The biggest problem though, is that Stiles might like getting Derek all riled up, but he also just _likes_ him. He _likes him_ likes him. He wants to hold his hand and kiss his baby elephant ears and stare into those kaleidoscope eyes while doing the whole Netflix and chill thing. Unfortunately, Derek’s only ever been _rude_ to Stiles, so he has no idea if his feelings are even reciprocated. Plus, if Derek thinks he’s _joking_ , because he really, _really_ is not joking about how fantastic Derek’s ass is, even in scrubs, then there’s no way to _prove_ to Derek that he’s actually into him in the first place.

Plus, Stiles is only 50% sure he’s even got a shot with Derek. Like, he’s _knows_ he’s attractive. College was definitely good for him, as was the whole growing out the hair and going to the gym with Scott and figuring out that he could _keep_ the plaids as long as he rolled the sleeves up (he’s got _banging_ forearms okay, even Lydia admitted it once. She was drunk, but it still counts). But he’s not necessarily Derek levels of attractive. Derek’s got the whole tall, dark and handsome thing going for him, not to mention the perfectly groomed facial hair and a jaw carved from marble and a body that looks like it was blessed by fucking Adonis or something. On top of all that (heh, he’d totally like to be on top of _all that_ ), he’s not 100% sure Derek’s into guys. There’s a few “sources” that claim to have “spotted” Derek out on what could be construed as a date with a guy. But Stiles doesn’t necessarily _trust_ his sources (like yeah, he _loves_ Allison and Lydia and all, but they’re meddling and rude and in love and their observations are just annoying and he doesn’t want to talk about it).

 _Anyways_. Derek is the entirety of the reasoning behind enjoying the dentist. Because as beautiful as Laura and Erica and Isaac are, they’re all kind of… _mean_. It’s not like Stiles doesn’t dish it right back, but at least Derek seems to get annoyed enough to just stop talking. Not that he talks much at all to begin with. That’s one of the many reasons they’d make a good pair. Stiles talks too much and Derek has a limit of five words an hour and they balance each other out nicely. Stiles is sure they could balance out nicely in other ways too. Like maybe with him straddling Derek’s muscular thighs. Or you know… something like that.

“Mr. Stilinski…” The sound of Derek’s voice has him lifting his head up, hopefully not twitching _too_ much as he pulls himself out of his thoughts. Derek is scowling at him, eyebrows at Level 3, which falls somewhere between ‘ _I’m going to murder you in your sleep_ ’ and ‘ _You are an annoying fucker but I kind of enjoy it’_. It’s a line Stiles likes to toe. He opens his mouth to say something _witty_ , only to be cut off by what could have been a growl. “Don’t.” Derek points the folder in his hand menacingly in Stiles’ direction. “Just follow me.” He turns and stalks down the hallway before Stiles can even say a word, leaving him to scramble out of his chair, tossing the magazine he’d been halfheartedly flipping through at Erica, and stumble after him.

“Damn baby you got a bright future behind you,” he murmurs under his breath, grinning when the back of Derek’s neck pinks up.

"Just shut up and sit down," he growls, stepping into one of the rooms and motioning towards the chair. Stiles does as he's told, even if he _might_ swing his hips just a little bit more than necessary when he slips past Derek.

"Your bedside manner could use some work sweet cheeks," he smirks, settling himself down into the chair, leather creaking ominously. Derek scowls and flips through the chart in his hand, apparently ignoring Stiles' commentary for now. "Is there like a suggestions card I can fill out or something? I mean, if you're going to be my regular hygienist instead of Blondie then I have some constructive criticism."

"I suggest you shut your mouth while you still can," Derek huffs, clipping the chart to the door and pulling latex gloves out of the box marked XL. Which... Derek glares when he catches his gaze, but Stiles swears his lips twitch in the corners. There's _so many_ jokes he could be making right now, but he's holding it in. This guy’s going to have his hands in his mouth in a few minutes, and the last thing he needs if him to be thoroughly pissed off. "Luckily for me, you're going to be out cold in about five minutes, and me and Laura will be able to do this in peace." Derek looks downright gleeful as he starts prepping the anesthetic, fingers nimble while fiddling with the needle and the tube that going to be attached to Stiles. Which. Yeah.

So there's a big possibility that the obnoxious flirting has all been in an attempt to distract himself from the inevitable. He's twenty three years old and he's finally getting his wisdom teeth out. Everything had been fine for years, he was one of those people with a big enough mouth that surgery wasn't required (shut the fuck up Scott). About three months ago, a suspect on a domestic violence call hit him across the face with a steel pipe. And while he had escaped with his jaw still intact, his teeth had gotten knocked all around, and Dr. Hale had advised him to just get them all taken out while they were at it. So here he is, watching as the hottest guy on the face of the earth prepares a syringe full of anesthetic that he's going to stab into his arm any second here.

"Stiles!" Dr. Laura Hale breezes into the room, managing to look both completely competent and gorgeous at the same time. She flashes him a smile with too many teeth, swooping in and prying his mouth open without warning.

"Jesmgko fumooun chriss," he mumbles around her fingers, glaring until she pulls back and winks. God. He fucking hates the dentist.

"McCall's going to come get you right, Stilinski?" Derek grumbles from somewhere behind him. Stiles shares a smirk with Laura before twisting his neck until he can grin at Derek.

"You worried about me Der Bear?"

"No," Derek scowls, stepping forward and pushing a needle into his arm. Stiles gasps, fingers curling tight around the arms of the chair. "That's just the local, calm down." Derek has the nerve to sound _annoyed,_ and fuck him honestly. "And I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't be hanging around here after is all." Laura lets out an undignified snort, and her big green eyes rolling is the last thing Stiles sees before everything goes black.

* * *

 

Scott is still not exactly sure how he got roped into this. He supposes it probably began way back when Stiles peed on his fucking sand castle when they were five and he _let_ him instead of like beating him up. He probably would have saved himself a lot of trouble. Wouldn't have had nearly as much fun either, so it's possible it was worth it in the end. But right now...

He stares down at his phone, shaking his head at the text messages full of the crying laughing emojis from Isaac. This is not going to be good.

"Come on angel," he murmurs, opening the backdoor of his SUV and pulling Mia out of her car seat. "Let's go see what trouble Uncle Stiles has gotten himself into now." His daughter grins, clinging to his neck as they make their way up to the dentist office.

"Uncle Sty-uhl?" She asks, sticky fingers patting at his cheek. Scott just nods and pushes her silky black hair away from her face, shaking his head when it just falls back into place. Whatever. He is going to have to watch some YouTube videos to figure out how he’s going to deal with that. Before he can push open the door, it swings in, revealing Erica with tears rolling down her face as she clutches her stomach.

"Oh no." Scott sighs, sliding past Erica and following the familiar sounds of a disgruntled Stiles down the hallway. He’s sprawled out in the dentist chair, cheeks stuffed full of gauze, eyes unfocused.

"Scotty! What are you doing here buddy?" He asks brightly, eyes blinking furiously when a snort sounds from the corner. Scott turns to find Derek Hale, face the color of a tomato, doing what appears to be something completely unnecessary with the used dental tools. Scott fights back a sigh. He does not have the time to deal with mutual pining with a heavy dose of sarcasm today.

"What did you do?" He turns a judgmental look on Stiles, smirk tugging at his lips when he notices Mia mimicking the expression in his arms. Derek snorts again, but Scott ignores him, focusing on the way Stiles sighs and flops back in the chair.

"Well apparently, _jokingly_ spreading your legs when the pretty dentist tell you to open wide is," he pauses, hooking his fingers into obnoxiously dramatic air quotes. "Frowned upon in this establishment." Stiles huffs loudly, crossing his arms and pouting. Scott is extremely proud of himself for not laughing, forcing himself to remain serious.

"You spread your legs for Laura?" He asks, frowning. That doesn't really make sense. Stiles' face slips into something like dopey confusion.

"Who's Laura?" He asks, lips curling into a smirk as his gaze lands back on Derek in the corner. Oh. OH. OH GOD. "I'm talking about Dr. Pretty Boy over here. He's literally the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen Scotty. Even prettier than _Jackson_."

"Wow." Is about all Scott can say, torn between wanting to cry and wanting to laugh.

"Why is Uncle Stiles like this?" Mia stage whispers, her little hand cupped on the wrong side of Scott's ear. He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Because he's super silly, remember?" He whispers back, heart squeezing when she smiles broadly at him, dimples appearing on her cheeks.  "Alright hot shot," he shifts Mia onto his left hip, grabbing Stiles' arm and dragging him to his feet. "You can come back and finish this with Dr. Pretty Boy at a later date."

Stiles stumbles a little before slinging his arm around Scott’s shoulders. He slides his arm down to Stiles’ waist, praying he doesn't actually go down. Unfortunately for Stiles, he's not about to follow him to the floor, not this time. He's got his baby girl on the other arm, and she is definitely a priority over Flirty McBedroom eyes here.

"You hear that sweet cheeks?" Stiles slurs over his shoulder as the shuffle out of the room. "I'm coming back for you..." He pauses, and Scott just _knows_ what's coming next. "Don't you forget about me," Stiles warbles, the words muffled by the gauze Scott gets peeks of every time he opens his mouth. "Don't, don't, don't! Don't you forget about me! Come on Scotty help me out here." Scott sighs, refusing to make eye contact with Isaac as they slowly make their way through the waiting room. The things he does for this dumb ass. He takes a deep breath and joins in.

"As you walk on by, will you call my name? As you walk on by, will you call my name? I say la, la, la, la, la, la..."

 

* * *

 

 

"Oh my god." Stiles blinks hard at his kitchen table. Scott glances up from where he's digging in the fridge, and the grin on his face only speaks of bad things. It's been twenty four hours since the surgery of doom, and he just had a sudden flashback to leaving the dentist office. "True or false, I referred to Derek Hale as Dr. Pretty Boy." Scott’s grin grows impossibly wider.

"True," he flops down into a chair, scrubs covered in dog hair and smelling faintly of cat pee. Stiles groans and covers his eyes.

"True or false, I announced that he was even prettier than Jackson."

"True." Scott has the nerve to _dimple_ at him, popping the top of the bottle of beer he managed to find. Stiles waits until he takes a sip to steal it, pressing the cool glass to his throbbing jaw.

"Um, just... Tell me the rest?"

"You can watch, instead." Scott says, snatching back his beer and handing Stiles his phone.

It's _horrible_ is what it is. He is _never_ going to live this down. _Ever_. He can _hear_ Laura and Erica cackling in the background, and Derek's face is redder than he's ever seen it. It's fucking adorable, and Stiles kind of wants him to come over and cuddle him. And maybe gently make out.

"Oh um, by the way," Scott says, in that forcedly off handed way that never fails to make ever muscle in his body tense. "Dr. Hale wanted someone to do a follow up with you so she sent one of the hygienists over to do a house call." Oh no. This is not happening. "Actually, I think they'll be here any minute so I better get going." He stands up and chugs the rest of the beer, tossing it into the recycling with a clang and pressing a kiss into Stiles' hair.

"You are the worst. I hate when you go all meddling dad on me." He grumbles, hiding his head in his arms.

"Liar, liar pants on fire!" Scott sings, and then the door slams shut behind him.

Only seconds later, there's three short knocks on his door. Stiles muffles another groan into his arms.

"Who is it?" He yells, suppressing the urge to cry at the rough,

"Derek" from the door. Seriously, just fuck his life. He pushes himself to his feet and ambles towards the door, wincing at the dull throbbing in his jaw. Once he reaches the door he yanks it open, blinking at the sight before him. Derek Hale looks... Like legit sex.

It isn't often that he gets to see Derek outside of Laura's office, and the whole jeans and Henley thing is like a shock to his system. Today was supposed to be for healing, not getting _assaulted_ by this fucking bull shit. "Hey," Derek mumbles. And yeah, that is definitely a blush on his cheeks. So it's definitely looking like his "sources" might have been right about Derek being into guys. Just maybe. Stiles' lips curls into a soft smile. Derek Hale has a crush on _him_.

"You here to check me out?" Derek's cheeks flush even darker, but he ducks his head and looks up at Stiles through his lashes. And no. Even on his best days he's not equipped to handle this nonsense. “Jesus Christ get in here Dr. Pretty Boy." He huffs, curling his fingers in Derek's shirt and dragging him into the apartment.

"I'm not actually a doctor," Derek says, but before Stiles can even _think_ of a witty reply, he's being backed up against his refrigerator and kissed.

Like wow.

Like holy shit.

One of Derek's big hands is gently cupping his jaw, the other curled around his hip as his lips press soft and warm against stiles'. And God, he tastes like spearmint gum and his chest is unbelievably firm and warm against Stiles' own and he feels kind of like he's drowning. In the best way possible.

"So what's the verdict?" He pants when Derek pulls back, ducking his head to kiss his neck. Derek huffs out a laugh and licks a warm strip right up his throat, seemingly pleased when Stiles throws his head back and let’s out the manliest whimper _ever_.

"I dunno," he replies seriously, pulling back to smirk at him. "I think I need to do a more thorough check up." He kisses Stiles again, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue.

Yeah. Stiles is definitely on board for more checkups. As many as Derek wants. Any time. Anywhere. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come [tumble](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com) with me.


End file.
